Comparison. Feelings of inadequacy. Fear of missing out. Guilt. Jealousy. Chances are, you’ve experienced all these emotions and then some when it comes to your involvement on social media. While being able to connect with friends, family, strangers, and celebrities right at our fingertips can be fun and entertaining, it can also be detrimental to our overall well-being, especially as people who live with chronic illness. So how can we drown out the noise and focus on accounts and people who evoke joy, fulfillment, and empowerment? Oftentimes it’s easier said than done, but here are some helpful reminders.
Think about how you narrate and select what to post, others do the same. That selfie you posted with your husband, if only your followers knew you guys were having words hours before. That perfect photo of your child laughing, let’s not forget about the 50 takes and the tantrum that occurred before and after it. Remember that the photos you see capture a moment. They are often edited with filters, captions, you name it. Even though we know everyone crafts their content the same, we’re all so quick to envision how much better or how “perfect” the lives of those in our “inner” circle are. All comparison does is rob of us joy. 
If a certain person or a page is making you feel negatively, stop following, stop engaging. One of the best tools on Facebook and Instagram is the ability to unfollow (but stay friends with people) and “mute” people on Instagram. Pretty sure we all have accounts that make us feel a certain way, it’s not healthy to continue an online presence with someone who makes you feel unhappy or less than.
Stop chasing the “likes” and the followers. It’s so easy to get caught up in the numbers. How many people liked this post, how many followers does he have, how did she get so many followers?
In a world where we all want immediate gratification, think about how it feels when you share something and there are crickets on the other end. Use your social media channels as a platform to share what you care about and what matters most to you, rather than trying to think about what others want to see.
Be conscious of the content your put out in the world. Everybody is facing their own struggles, regardless of how wonderful their life looks on social media. Be cognizant of the fact that your words and posts could cause someone else to hurt. Think about how your friends with fertility or child loss feel each time they see a pregnancy announcement or baby photo. Think about how your friends in the chronic illness community feel when you’re talking about your remission or even your setbacks. It’s not to say that we shouldn’t celebrate huge milestones or challenges, but there’s a way to be tactful, a way to be considerate. Be empathetic to others.
For me, my Crohn’s has been in remission since August 2015. I’m going on almost five years of feeling well, most of my days, which is great…but often as people and as patients we feel a sense of guilt for doing well when our peers are in a flare or constantly in the hospital. There’s a survivor’s guilt that plays into chronic illness. While you may want to celebrate how well you feel, also remember when you were the person in the hospital bed.

Hospitalized with a bowel obstruction the year of my surgery.
Remember how you felt the day you were diagnosed. Remember how you felt getting rolled into surgery. Remember how you felt waking up from your colonoscopy scared to hear the results. Just remember.
While social media has done wonders for the IBD community and other health spaces, there are still people who bring others down. There are many people professing cures and providing false hopes to those desperate for answers. Be weary of who you let in. Recognize that there are keyboard warriors out there who don’t care about you and will say something for shock value or to bring you down. Be skeptical when you see messages from strangers telling you to try this diet or join a group. I know when you’re feeling isolated in your illness you jump on the opportunity to connect with someone you think “gets it” but be mindful of these connections and guard your heart.
One of my favorite things to do after putting my kids to bed is to charge my phone in the kitchen and turn it on silent. This forces me to be present with my husband and relax. Relax from the pressure of commenting and engaging and just shut out the outside world. While being accessible and helping others is one of my favorite parts of patient advocacy and something I do with all my heart, it’s important to know when to take a break and when to focus on who is right in front of you, rather than a stranger who you’ve never met.
I chose to blog and become a patient advocate for several reasons. I was tired of feeling isolated. I wanted to be a voice for the newly diagnosed, as well as the veteran patient. And, as a journalist, I’ve always had a love for the written word. For me—expressing myself through writing comes a lot easier than saying the words out loud.
In that time, I’ve shared 171 new articles (because some weeks I post on Mondays AND Wednesdays). Over the last three years, more than 105,000 people from around the world have checked out Lights, Camera, Crohn’s. Could the articles be organized better? Yes. Could the design be snazzier? Yes. But, my focus as an IBD blogger and advocate is to give you the nitty gritty. I’d rather spend my time and energy on content vs. design.
While attending IBD Social Circle at Digestive Disease Week in San Diego, I listened to a panel with Dr. Neilanjan Nandi, MD, FACP and Dr. Aline Charabaty, MD about the patient and health care practitioner dynamic.
Switching physicians and entrusting someone new with your well-being is not easy. Trust your gut (for once!) and advocate for care that makes you feel like you have a voice. Think about how you feel leading up to an appointment, while you’re face to face with the physician and the emotions you may experience on that drive home. If anything makes you feel less than or not heard, connect with fellow patients in your area to see who makes up their care team. Do research about IBD specialists within drivable distance and take the steps you need to feel like you have your best ally against this disease.
Ziyad shares how his experience taking on Crohn’s inspired his decision to become a radiographer and show fellow patients they are much more than just a number. I’ll let him take it away…
I was afraid of what people might say, what they might think of me or if they might start treating me differently – I didn’t want to be anything other than the supposedly ‘healthy’ 17-year-old with a ‘normal’ life. As a result, I spent twelve years living with Crohn’s in silence. I was embarrassed, because let’s face it, talking about your bowel habits isn’t the most glamorous topic.
It can be easy to fall into the ‘conveyor belt’ motion of one in, one out, to try and manage the workload. But it is in these busy moments, where taking a few extra seconds to ask a patient who looks upset, scared or frustrated if they’re OK, that can make all the difference.
I hope you take this week to enjoy time with loved ones, relax and find time to care for yourself!
She is a news reporter for a community television station in the Minneapolis/St.Paul area. Sonya is also a Crohn’s patient, diagnosed with the digestive disease in 1985 while she was in college. I’ll let her take it from here:
However, it took me a minute to adapt a positive inner attitude. You see, in public I put on a good, cheerful attitude. There were times when I wanted to crawl up into a big ball and shut out the world. The first few weeks of constantly wearing a backpack full of IV fluids were very hard. I did not like what I saw in the mirror. I was angry at my situation. It wasn’t until I visited a pediatric Crohn’s and Colitis Foundation support group that I changed my way of thinking. Seeing young people living with the digestive diseases, and going about their lives despite their circumstances, motivated me to do better.
It changed in a way that I never knew was possible. I have so many flashbacks of my journey with Humira. The tears as I felt sickly in my 20s sitting alone in my apartment and wondering why me. The dread, anxiety and anticipation every other Monday and the strength I had to muster up within myself to once again receive my medication. Holding the injection in my hand, getting in the zone and focusing my thoughts on brave family members and friends as I held down the plum colored button and felt the burn. The sad look on my son’s face as he looked in my eyes and witnessed his mama hurting.
Linde graduated from my high school and later moved to St. Louis. She currently resides in Atlanta, where she works for the CDC and does Policy work for the division of lab sciences.
I’m training for a half marathon and taking on the biggest fitness and
There aren’t a whole lot of “safe spaces” for those of us to feel understood and connected with.
As someone who’s battled Crohn’s disease for over 13 years, I constantly find myself needing to take a step back and remember that the only person who’s lived my journey is me. It’s up for me to tell my story. It’s up for me to share it. It’s up to me to communicate to those when my feelings are hurt or I’m disappointed. But before I jump to conclusions, I need to assume the other person is trying to help me or learn more about my experience—rather than ruin my day or hurt my feelings. API all day, baby. Try it. Trust it. Live it.
As a patient advocate, you also become somewhat of a confidante and voice of reason for your peers in the community.
What I do want—is for people to recognize what compassion fatigue is…and how as chronic illness advocates and caretakers we need to be mindful of how we’re feeling and internalizing the struggles of those around us.
I offer support from the bottom of my heart, but as a mom and a wife, I do need to recognize when it’s time to unplug and take time for myself. When my baby naps each morning—I spend that “break” on my computer writing articles about IBD, participating in Twitter Chats, and talking on the phone with those who want to hear about my patient experience.
As part of my self-care and disease management I need to de-stress, so I don’t put my own health at risk. This article is painful for me to write—I can’t stand admitting that I am struggling to do it all. But, compassion fatigue has been something I’ve been feeling for a few months. I want to be the best advocate for others and do all I can to make a difference and show there’s so much life to be lived outside of your disease. I want you to see how much you can thrive with this disease and all that you can accomplish. I want to be the person I needed the day my world turned upside down when I was diagnosed. I want to be all the things. But it’s not possible. It’s not fair to me, it’s not fair to you.